Page 48 of Fourth Heartwarmers Trilogy
“Mama Mia, when is Jack coming?” Maisie dragged herself into the room and flounced onto the nearest chair.
“Hi, honey. He said after lunch and it’s just twelve-thirty now. Mark has gone to the kitchen to make some sandwiches. Why don’t you help him, and we’ll take a short break and eat, okay?”
Happy again, Maisie skipped to the door and stopped. “I like this woom. It’s bigger than the old house.”
“Yes, you’re right, muffin. We can easily fit four sewing machines in here. I’ll be interviewing some new ladies later today, and we’ll be able to start production again.”
“Gweat!” Off she ran, getting bored easily. Like most four-year-old’s listening to grown-up talk, she preferred having the world revolve around her and her needs.
Mia stood and looked around to see what Maisie had seen and was delighted. The lovely big windows toward the back of the house were covered in white sheers to keep out the direct sun. They projected a filmy glow over the room that gave it an out-of-this-world serenity appearance. If one stepped onto the veranda, it overlooked the gardens with the pool in the distance.
They’d left the huge, hanging, lime-colored ferns inside that added color against the white background. To her artistic eye, the pleasurable lighting and sense of largeness delighted.
Mark had gathered a few of the larger easy chairs, some with footrests and others that opened when pushed, along with end tables as a convenience for when hand sewing was needed so they would have a cozy area to work.
With all the fancy white shelves housing the different materials against the far wall and the more squared shelves with a collection of necessary implements they’d need, like threads, needles, etc., as room dividers, it gave the appearance of luxurious efficiency – a wonderful place to work for many hours a day.
She heard Mark’s voice calling her and shrugged off her sudden sadness thinking if only Angie were there to see what they’d accomplished. Deciding not to let worry over her aunt’s operation nor the unease over her episode with Jack cloud this special day for her, she rubbed the moisture from her eyes. This was the beginning her and Maisie needed, and she would grasp the opportunity in both hands gladly.
First, she stopped to call her folks and give them an update on Angie’s condition. When she’d called them that morning, they insisted that if she checked in with the hospital – they knew her well enough to expect she would do so more than once – she was to update them also.
When she arrived in the kitchen to see Mark but no Maisie, she questioned him. “Did Maisie come in here?”
“For a few minutes. She was kind of pouting that Jack had forgotten his ahh… pwomise.” Mark grinned as he repeated her words.
“Little devil, she has no faith that he’ll follow through. Unfortunately, Jasmine often had to break promises and it left Maisie skeptical. That’s why I always do as I say I will. She knows she can trust me.”
She veered off in the direction of the little one’s bedroom to call her for lunch.
Chapter Twenty-five
Seeing Angie lying in the hospital bed with oxygen tubes and intravenous equipment strapped to her arm, Jack had to admit to a certain fright at seeing the old girl looking so weak.
The nurse arrived to change the intravenous drip and spoke quietly. “She hasn’t come out of the anesthesia yet. We’re getting a bit anxious for her to gain consciousness so we can ask her questions. Maybe talk with her, Jack, and see if you can break through.” Her serene nurse’s smile and cool attitude might have been used to calm his worries, but it didn’t work.
After she left the room, he sat beside the bed. He’d always admired Angie’s look, her luxurious hair she normally wore piled on the top of her head in curls, but he’d not noticed the gray streaks peeking through before. Now, with it down around her shoulders, it showed clearly that his friend had lived many years longer than he had.
Maybe that was the reason he felt so comfortable around her. Why she could make him laugh, and they’d become embroiledin deep conversations most younger people either had no time for… or worse, didn’t care about.
They’d discovered early on they felt the same about God, the universe, where they came from and where they ended up. Turns out they were both far more spiritual than religious. It made for some lively discussions.
Holding her hand, he began talking to her in a soft voice. “Hey, Ange. Time to stop messing around and come back to us. You’ve rattled the doctors enough now; they need to question you.”
“Well they can bloody well wait until I’m ready to talk to them, now can’t they?”
“Why you old faker, you. Have you been awake all this time?”
“Maybe. Won’t let a body catch up on her rest, constantly sticking needles here and tubes there. I need to get back home to my palace and outta this joint.” Her voice became stronger with every word, and Jack relaxed muscles that had stiffened from worry. Angie was back in form.
Until he looked closer and saw she’d slipped back into sleep. Her breathing had strengthened, the raspiness having faded, and she seemed somehow relaxed. He called for the nurse and told her that Angie had spoken to him, and he could see the relief in her eyes.
She went over to the side of the bed and leaned over the patient. “Angie, can you hear me?”
“The devil himself can hear you… all that yelling. I’m sleeping now. Come back later.”
Though she didn’t speak loudly, and she’d slurred her words slightly, she was obviously coherent.
“Let’s let her sleep then.” The nurse guided him from the room, her attitude of no nonsense letting him know she’d prefer he left. “We’ll make her more comfortable, and the doctor will want to see her for himself.”
